“O, your royal highness!” cried she, stifling much offence, “do you mean the poor Haggerdorn?—O your royal highness! have you forgot her?”
“I have, upon my word!” cried he, plumply “upon my soul, I have!”
Then turning again to me, “I am very happy, ma’am,” he cried, “to see you here; it gives me great pleasure the queen should appoint the sister of a sea-officer to so eligible a situation. As long as she has a brother in the service, ma’am,” cried he to Mrs. Schwellenberg, “I look upon her as one of us. O, faith I do! I do indeed! she is one of the corps.”
Then he said he had been making acquaintance with a new princess, one he did not know nor remember—Princess Amelia. “Mary, too,”—he said, “I had quite forgot; and they did not tell me who she was; so I went up to her, and, without in the least recollecting her, she’s so monstrously grown, I said, ‘Pray, ma’am, are you one of the attendants?’”
Princess Sophia is his professed favourite. “I have had the honour,” he cried, “of about an hour’s conversation with that young lady, in the old style; though I have given up my mad frolics now. To be sure, I had a few in that style formerly; upon my word I am almost ashamed;—Ha! ha! ha!”
Then, recollecting particulars, he laughed vehemently; but Mrs. Schwellenberg eagerly interrupted his communications. I fancy some of them might have related to our own sacred person!
“Augusta,” he said “looks very well,—a good face and countenance,—she looks interesting,—she looks as if she knew more than she would say; and I like that character.”
He stayed a full hour, chatting in this good-humoured and familiar manner.